Olallieberry Pie
by hey-sass-butt
Summary: Destiel AU: Dean falls for the new chef at his favorite diner. Of course, the fact that this guy makes the best pie Dean's ever tasted doesn't hurt.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note: Disclaimer- I don't own these characters, I don't even own the plot line. Someone on tumblr made an AU meme, and someone else requested a fic, and I merely supplied. If you want to see anything in particular written into the story, let me know and I'll see what I can do.**

Chapter 1

Dean let his left hand dangle out the open window of the Impala, enjoying the pleasant spring morning, even if it _was _a Monday. The fingers of his right hand tapped to the beat of the song playing on the radio as he drove. He sighed in his head as Sam continued to babble on about Jess and Stanford and everything else in his life. It wasn't that Dean didn't love catching up with his brother- he did. But man, the kid could talk.

"So how's San Luis Obispo treating you?" Sam asked when he was done going into explicit detail about the class his favorite professor had taught the other day.

"Fine, fine," Dean replied. "Bobby's been letting me help out at the shop to make some money."

"Sounds great. Tell him I say hi." Through Sam's end of the phone, Dean could hear a door slam shut and Jess' voice calling for Sam. "Look, Jess just got home. I gotta go. Talk to you later."

"Later," Dean echoed, snapping his phone shut. He reached down and turned the music up slightly.

After their dad had died, and Sam had returned to college, Dean had decided to move to San Luis Obispo. He had driven down from Stanford, after dropping Sammy off. His eventual goal was to earn enough money to possibly buy a house, or at least rent a nicer place than the one he had at the moment. In the meantime, he continued working for Bobby at the old auto shop. He was great at fixing cars, and he enjoyed doing it, and hopefully he would take over one day.

Dean pulled over to his favorite diner, Harvelle's Roadhouse, for a slice of his favorite cherry pie before heading back to the shop.

The bell jingled as Dean opened the door, and the entire staff greeted him. He came often enough to know all of them by name. The owner, Ellen, even gave him the occasional discount. As he passed by the kitchen, he heard an unfamiliar voice.

"Jo, I got that order ready for Table 5." Dean saw the new voice belonged to a young man, maybe 2 years younger than Dean, working busily at the stove. He had a white cap on, but Dean could see untidy dark hair sticking out from underneath it. His blue eyes sparkled good naturedly as whistled away while he continued to work.

"Go ahead and seat yourself," Jo, Ellen's daughter, said, giving Dean a hug and a peck on the cheek as she rushed by to get the order. Dean sat in his usual booth by the window, watching people rush by. Jo reappeared, having given Table 5 their food.

"Let me guess… one slice of cherry pie, and a cup of coffee?" Jo asked, smiling as she recited his unchanging order. Dean nodded absentmindedly, focused more on the new chef.

"Who's the new guy?" he asked, and Jo laughed.

"Name's Castiel. He's kind of a weird guy, but he's a great cook, and he's just about the nicest person you'll ever meet. Makes a mean pie," she teased him. Dean only grunted in response, still giving the new guy ("Castiel," Dean reminded himself) a look over. The teasing smile slid from Jo's face.

"Oh, no no no. No you don't."

"What?" Dean replied defensively.

"I know that look. That's your how-fast-can-I-get-you-into-bed-with-me look." Jo pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow accusingly. "I don't need you scaring off another one of our staff. We just got him, and he's a hard worker."

"I don't have a I-want-to-get-you-in-bed look!" Dean protested.

"Oh yes you do. It's the same look you used to give me." Dean slouched, knowing she had him there. Back when he had first started eating at the Roadhouse, he had constantly tried to get Jo to go on a date with him. She continually refused, but it became a game between them, and now she was the best friend he had in the city.

"Fine, fine, I'll lay off," Dean grumbled. "You said he makes a mean pie?" Dean continued, smirking.

Jo smacked his shoulder affectionately. "Yeah. Olallieberry is his specialty."

"Olallieberry?" Dean said the word, his face scrunching up, almost disgustedly. "What the hell kind of name is that?"

Jo just shrugged in response. "I don't know, it's some kind of berry hybrid. Loganberry and youngberry, if I remember right." Dean gave her his best "what-the-hell?" face at all the weird berry names.

"Well, let's try that instead, then." Jo jotted down his order and walked away to give it to Castiel. Dean looked back towards the kitchen and saw the new chef chatting happily with a customer through the window. He threw back his head and laughed, revealing two rows of perfect teeth. Dean finally tore his eyes away, turning to look back outside the window as the rest of the town hurried by.

* * *

"Here you go. A cup of joe and one slice of olallieberry pie, fresh from the oven." Jo set down Dean's order on the table in front of him. Dean looked at the new pie with slight apprehension, picking up his fork and taking a bite. The berry exploded on his tongue with flavor. He looked back up at Jo, eyebrows raised.

"Holy shit. This is best pie I have ever tasted," Dean said incredulously, taking another large bite.

"Did I tell you he made a mean pie, or did I tell you he made a mean pie," Jo teased him. The bell rang as another customer walked through the door, and Jo hurried off to assist him. Dean quickly ate the rest of the slice in a near reverent silence. When he finished, he leaned back in the booth, patting his stomach with a satisfied sigh.

Dean glanced down at his watch, realizing he was almost late for work. He gulped down his coffee, slapped down some money on the table, and hurried towards the door. In his rush, he failed to watch where he was going, and all but crashed into the new guy.

"Easy there," Castiel said, grabbing Dean's arm to help him regain his balance. Dean glanced up, a thank you on his lips, when he was taken aback by the intensity of the blue of this man's eyes.

"Er, uh, thanks, uh yeah. For the, uh, catching me. And the, er, the pie, it was delicious," Dean stuttered out.

"My pleasure…?" Castiel paused, waiting for a name.

"Dean. Winchester," Dean said, holding out his hand.

"Castiel," he replied, shaking Dean's hand with a smile. "I'm glad you like the pie. I spent quite a few years perfecting it."

"Well, I'll spend quite a few years enjoying it. Er, well, I mean…" Dean trailed off, blushing slightly when he realized how awkward he sounded. Castiel raised an eyebrow in amusement. There was a moment of silence between them.

"I gotta get back to work…" Castiel said, gesturing over his shoulder back at the kitchen.

"Right! Right. Me too," Dean replied, nodding slightly. "Er, uh, it was nice meeting you."

"You too." Dean thought he could almost hear a smirk in the response.

Dean decided to leave before he could embarrass himself further, the door jingling as he left. Dean arrived at Bobby's garage a few minutes late, muttering an apology as he blew through the door. He could still taste the pie on his lips.

The next day, Dean returned to the Roadhouse. He sat himself as usual, choosing a seat closer to the kitchen than his normal place. Jo spotted him from behind the counter.

"Another slice of pie?" Dean nodded in response, busy trying to peer past her into the kitchen. Jo pulled a plate out from under the counter, sliding a slice of pie onto it.

"He's not here," she said, coming around the counter and placing the plate in front of Dean.

"Who's not here?" Dean replied innocently.

Jo rolled her eyes. "Cas works Mondays, Thursdays, and Fridays from 7 to 9 in the morning, and then again from 6-11 at night."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Dean attempted to glance at his nails nonchalantly.

"I'm sure you don't," Jo replied, leaving Dean with his food. Dean ate the pie more slowly this time, savoring it. As he ate, he thought back to the day before. Castiel's voice had been deep and smooth, and his hair looked delightfully messy underneath the cap he wore. From what Dean could tell, he had a pretty nice body, slender but toned. Dean had always thought that a handshake spoke a lot about a guy, and his had been firm and friendly. Most of all, Dean thought back to his eyes. Yeah, Dean could tell they were blue from his seat to the kitchen, but up close, they were _blue. _Dean felt cheesy simply thinking it, but they were the bluest blue he had ever seen.

Dean shook himself from his stupor. He left his money on the table again and stood up, already mentally preparing himself to be smoother when they "accidentally" bumped into each other again on Thursday.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Really, Cas? Dean Winchester?" Jo asked skeptically.

"What? He seemed charming enough," Castiel shrugged, removing his cap and running his fingers through his naturally messy hair. He and Jo were relaxing in the back of the kitchens, sharing a grilled cheese and catching up as they did every lunch break.

"Well, yeah, but Dean Winchester? I don't know, Cas, I always thought you had more class than that."

"He was all stutters and blush. It was… cute." Cas dragged a few fries through the puddle of ranch dressing on the plate before popping them in his mouth.

"Wait. Hold the phone." Jo, whose feet had been propped up another chair, dropped them loudly to the floor as she leaned forward animatedly. "You're telling me that Dean Winchester, Mr. Smooth and Flirty himself, was _blushing_?"

"…Yeah?"

Jo chuckled as she propped her feet up again, now on Castiel's lap. "Jeez, Cas, what are you putting in those pies? And where can I get some?"

Castiel shoved her feet off of him. "Oh, shut up."

"What a scathing retort," Jo's voice dripped with sarcasm as she put her feet back in his lap. Cas smiled as he bit into his half of the sandwich. Jo was the person who had trained him when he started working at the Roadhouse, and they had been fast friends ever since.

* * *

Dean shut the hood of the car he had been working on, wiping his oily hands on the rag hanging form his pocket. He heard the annoying beep of someone walking through the door; Bobby had one of those electronic sensor things, and it drove Dean crazy. Dean looked around and saw Bobby's legs sticking out from under the car next to him.

"I got it," Dean called out, stopping Bobby from getting up. He pulled the rag out of his pocket to clean his hands better as he walked out of the garage into the office, flinging the rag over his shoulder when he was done.

Dean saw a man, hand in his pockets, looking around the office with interest, his back to the counter. Dean bent down to pull the client book out from under the desk. "And how can I help you Mr..?"

"Novak," the man said, spinning around when he realized Dean was there. "Wait. Dean?"

Dean glanced up, confused. "Castiel?" And sure enough, there he was, with his bluer-than-blue eyes, charming smile, and untidy black hair tucked under his white hat.

"You work here?" Castiel asked incredulously.

"Yeah. Why?" Dean said somewhat defensively.

Cas laughed, and Dean couldn't help but warm up to the sound. "No reason. Just a funny coincidence, that's all. You love pie, and I love a guy who looks good in grease."

Dean turned bright red. _Well, shit,_ he thought, glancing down awkwardly. _So much for me being smooth. _

The silence continued. Cas coughed, embarrassed.

"I'm sorry," Cas started to apologize.

"No, really its-" Dean interrupted.

"That was just really forward of me-" Cas began again.

"No its…" Dean glanced down again, pausing. "It's fine."

Castiel took off his cap and ran his fingers through his hair, making it messier than it already was. Dean watched almost hungrily, unable to stop himself from wondering what it'd be like to run his own fingers through that hair.

"So…" Cas began, breaking silence again. "I'm having trouble with my car..?"

"Uh, right. What seems to be the issue?" Dean went into work mode as Castiel described the noise his car made every time he started it.

"Alright, let's check it out," Dean said, finishing jotting down the notes in the record book. He followed Castiel outside to an old, blue, two-seater 1956 Ford Thunderbird. "You drive this?" Dean couldn't hide his smile.

"What? She's a great car!" Cas protested.

"Don't get me wrong, T-birds are great cars. It's just not what I pictured you in, that's all. Start 'er up for me?"

Cas climbed in the driver's seat and twisted the key. The car released a high-pitched whine in protest. Dean signaled for Castiel to stop, and he popped open the hood. Dean spotted the problem quickly.

"You're just low on oil for the gears that start your car," Dean explained, pointing out the damaged pieces. "That means these valves here have been scraping against each other instead of sliding smoothly. It's an easy fix, but your car's so old that we don't have the oil in stock anymore. It'll take a few days to get here."

Castiel sighed. "Do what you have to do, I guess." He glanced at his watch. "Shit, it's already 5:45. I have work at 6, do you have a rental car, or…?" Castiel trailed off questioningly.

"You know, I'm off work any minute now, and Bobby can survive without me. I was heading down there anyways, do you want a lift?"

"You're sure you don't mind? I'd hate to impose," Cas said politely.

"It's no biggie, I practically live at the Roadhouse anyways," Dean joked. "Let me just place the order for your car and we can head out." Dean jogged back into the shop and placed a quick phone call, ordering the new parts and oil he needed. He poked his head in the garage to let Bobby know he was taking off early, then grabbed his keys off the wall as he headed back through the door.

"Let's go," he said, heading towards the Impala. He heard Cas try to hide a laugh behind a cough. "What?"

"You were giving me crap about my T-bird when you drive this?"

"Hey, you want to ride with me, you don't insult my baby. Besides," Dean added, grinning mischievously, "the Impala is sexy."

Castiel's eyebrows quirked slightly as he tried to hide a smirk. "Well, there's no arguing with that," he muttered to himself, climbing into the passenger seat.


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors note: To my lovely reviewers and you beautiful people who follow my story... Thank you so much! If you have anything you'd like to specifically see in the story, let me know. (:**

Chapter 3

Dean and Castiel sat in the Impala in a slightly awkward silence. Dean flipped the radio on, and AC DC blasted through the speakers. He hastily turned the volume down.

"You're a classic rock kind of guy, huh?" Castiel asked. Dean grunted in response. "I've always been more into the older stuff, like the Beatles," Castiel continued. Dean simply nodded.

Silence filled the car again, broken only by the background music and the soft drumming of Cas's fingers on his denim clad knees.

"So…" Again Castiel broke the silence. "How long have you lived in San Luis Obispo?"

"I lived here a few years when I was a kid, but my dad moved around a lot. I moved back here a few months ago. You?"

"I came down last year for school. I'm over at Cal Poly. They just opened a culinary school, and I want to get my degree so I can open my own bakery. I plan on running a successful business by the time I'm 30."

"How old are you now?"

"24."

Dean whistled, impressed. "I'm 26 and you've already got more of a plan than me."

"What _is _your plan?"

Dean shrugged. "Take over Bobby's auto shop one day, I guess. That man's been more of a father to me than my own ever was." Castiel could see Dean's jaw clench.

"I get how _that_ feels," Cas muttered, eyes down, fingers playing nervously with the hem of his shirt.

"Family tension?" Dean glanced over at Cas.

"Don't even get me started."

The rest of the ride passed quickly, neither man speaking up again. Dean pulled into his usual spot at the Roadhouse and turned off the car. The sudden silence caused by the lack of engine and music pressed down on Dean's ears. He opened the door and got out before things could get awkward again. Castiel followed, and Dean locked the car as they walked into the diner together. Dean spun the key ring around his fingers, a habit he'd had since he'd been able to drive.

"Thanks again for the ride."

"It's really not a problem. When do you get off? I can give you a ride home if you need." Dean caught Jo's suggestively raised eyebrow as he and Cas headed towards the little swinging waist-high door that in the counter that the staff used to get to the kitchen. The keys twirled off Dean's finger and slid across the ground under the stools that were set up at the counter.

Dean swore under his breath as he got down on his hands and knees to retrieve the keys.

"Nice bottom," he heard Cas comment quietly to himself. Dean could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

"I _do_ have a great ass, if I do say so myse-" Dean stopped abruptly as the double entendre clicked in his head. "Wait a minute!" he protested, reemerging, keys in hand. "I'm not a-"

Castiel had already disappeared without a sound.

* * *

Castiel hurried around the kitchen, doing his best to not mess up the numerous orders being flung at him. It didn't help that every time he glanced out at the counter, he could see Dean's intense emerald eyes watching him. Even when his back was turned, he could feel them follow his every move.

"Alright, Cas, what's the deal?" Jo finally demanded. "This is the dozenth time you've messed up an order."

"Sorry, sorry," Castiel groaned, hurrying to correct his error. "I'm just really flustered right now."

"Who are you and what have you done with my favorite chef? The Castiel Novak I know wouldn't get flustered if Channing Tatum burst through the door in a speedo and claimed that he was dying and only sex would save him."

Cas paused in his work and glanced up, an amused smile on his face. "I don't even like Channing Tatum. He's not that great of an actor, and he's not really that attractive." Cas struggled to keep a straight face. "Robert Downey, Jr., on the other hand…"

Jo shot Cas a glare. "Not the point. What's gotten into you?"

Castiel dropped his joking manner, glancing up worriedly towards Dean. Thankfully, he was chatting with a woman sitting next to him. Cas' eyes lingered over his perfect teeth and the way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he laughed.

"I can't help it! Every time I look up, he's staring at me."

"_That's _what this is about?" Jo laughed exasperatedly. She paused Castiel in his flurried movement around the kitchen, pulling his face into her hands so he would look her in the eye. "Ask. Him. Out," she said slowly.

"W-what? No, I don't –" Cas began.

"Nuh-uh," Jo cut him off. "If you won't do this for yourself, do this for me. It's about time someone knocked Dean Winchester off his high horse, and I think you're just the guy. Don't get me wrong, I love Dean," Jo hurriedly clarified. "But he's got the voice and the looks and the teeth and the eyes, and trust me, he knows it and he knows how to use it." Jo began to pace as she continued with her rant. "But for some reason, you of all people seem to get to him, shake his confidence. And honestly, it's kind of great. Besides, I've been watching you guys. You've had less than an hour total of interaction and I can already see the little cartoon hearts dancing in circles around your head."

Another one of the Roadhouse staff members popped his head through the door. "Jo, we've got about a thousand people out here waiting to be helped!"

"Coming, Ash!" Jo turned back to Castiel. "Alright, here's the plan. You accept his ride home. You kiss him, or he kisses you, or whatever. He goes inside with you. You make sweet, sweet love. Capisce?"

Castiel glanced at her and saw the determination in her eyes. "Yeah, I capisce," he sighed in defeat.

"Good." Jo grinned wickedly. "My life is so much easier when you agree to come quietly."

"Jo!" Ash cried in panic.

"On my way!" Jo reached up on her toes and kissed Cas and the cheek. "Have fun with sex!" she called over her shoulder as she exited the kitchen. Cas glanced through the window and sure enough saw a set of green eyes staring back at him. Dean raised his eyebrow questioningly, having heard Jo's parting words. Cas blushed and turned around quickly, heading back to the stove.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Hello, my beautiful readers. Thanks again to those who reviewed. Seriously, if there's anything you want to see in this story let me know and I'll do my best to write it in. **

Chapter 4

Jo returned to the kitchen near the end of Castiel's shift, once things had slowed down. She hopped up to sit on one of the counters, swinging her feet as Castiel began to clean up.

"So about what we said earlier…" Jo began. "You're not going to do any of that, are you." It sounded less like a question and more like a statement of fact.

"Not in the slightest." Castiel glanced up with a smile from pan he was scrubbing. "But you know, it sure just warms the cockles of my heart that you know me so well."

"Like the back of my hand," she replied sarcastically, picking up a nearby apple. She bit into it with a crunch. "Seriously, though," she continued, talking around the mouthful, "this is for your own good." She swallowed, placing the apple back on the counter. "I've seen how sad you've been lately. You're lonely."

Castiel couldn't bring himself to hold her gaze. "I… I know." He turned back to the pan. "It's just—between school, and work, and trying to afford my piece of shit apartment, times have been hard lately, okay?"

Jo hopped off the counter, crossed the room, and pulled Castiel into a hug. He wrapped his arms loosely around her waist, burying his face into her shoulder.

"I know, baby, I know," Jo comforted him. "And I think this will be really, really good for you. Truly." They pulled apart, and Jo could see tears in Castiel's eyes, although a small smile had returned to his lips. She placed her hand on his cheek.

"You'll get through this. You know that, right?"

Castiel responded by scooping Jo up into a huge bear hug. She laughed, squealing slightly in surprise. Suddenly someone cleared their throat from the door. Both Jo and Cas turned to look in the direction, Castiel dropping Jo swiftly when they saw Dean standing in the open doorway, hands in his pockets.

"It's closing time, you ready to go?" Dean asked Castiel.

"Yeah, I-" Cas trailed off, looking around at all the dishes that still needed cleaning.

"You go ahead, Cas, I'll take care of this," Jo said, nudging Castiel towards the door.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, go and get some rest."

"Thank you so much, you're the best!" Cas hugged her again, and she gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"See you tomorrow. You too, Dean," she called to the door.

Castiel grabbed his jacket and followed Dean out the door. Dean got in the car silently, and started the ignition.

"I hope you weren't waiting too long for me," Castiel said as they pulled onto the street. Dean gave no response.

"Did you see how busy the diner was tonight?" Castiel tried again. "I didn't even have time to breathe." Again, Dean said nothing. Castiel sighed, and turned to look out the window, only speaking to give Dean directions to his apartment.

By the time Dean pulled into the driveway, they were still sitting in a stony silence.

"So, you'll need a ride tomorrow?" Dean asked, refusing to look at Cas.

"Yeah, I- Wait a minute. You did that on purpose, didn't you?" Castiel exclaimed. "You knew I'd need a ride, you just want to spend more time with me. _You think I'm gorgeous, you want to date me, love me and kiss me," _Castiel teased, mimicking Sandra Bullock.

"Seriously? You're going to go with Miss Congeniality at a time like this."

"What? That movie was great. Anyways, it's true," Castiel shrugged. "I mean, look at me." He waited for Dean's chuckle but heard nothing.

"So. You and Jo?" Dean asked, turning to stare out the windshield.

Castiel looked back at him, fighting a smile. "Really? Me and Jo?"

"Yeah, you guys seemed to be a little friendly back there."

This time, Cas couldn't hold back the laugh. "Really. After all the passes I've made at you, you think I'd be dating Jo Harvelle of all people?"

"What, is that so hard to believe?" Dean asked defensively. "God knows I tried when I first moved here."

"Well, yeah, but _me_ and Jo? Quite the contrary, actually." Castiel looked down at his hands, chuckling nervously. "In fact, she, uh, she's trying to set _us_ up." Dean's head whipped around to look at him. "She gave me this whole rant about how I was supposed to get you in bed with me." Even in the dark, Castiel could tell Dean was smirking. "If I remember correctly, the plan was accept your ride home, kiss, and then, and I quote, 'make sweet, sweet love.'"

Cas could feel Dean move closer to him in the dark of the car. "Well," he said, leaning in close to Castiel, "you're already one third of the way there." Castiel's heart rate increased, but he remembered what Jo said about him shaking Dean's confidence. He smirked, and turned around, leaning towards Dean so they were mere millimeters apart.

"Is that so? What was step two, again?" Castiel all but breathed out, doing his best not to laugh. Dean opened his mouth but couldn't get any words out, his eyes flickering down to Cas's lips. "Huh, pity you can't remember. Guess I'll see you tomorrow. Be here at 5." Castiel could see Dean's mouth working to reply, making him look like a fish out of water. "Have a nice night, Dean." Castiel moved back, opening the door and stepping into the cold night.

"Y-you… you have a nice-" Dean stuttered. Castiel turned away, grinning to himself. He was going to have a _lot _of fun with this.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Woo, more reviews! You guys make my heart want to squee. Squeeee! Anyways, thanks for reading. What do you think about it maybe some smut? I've never written any, but God knows I've read more than enough. Let me know? Enjoy the chapter!**

Chapter 5

Dean pulled up to Castiel's apartment at exactly 4:45 the next day. He took a deep breath to calm himself before opening the door and climbing out of the Impala. He strolled up confidently to the door, determined to keep his cool this time. As he walked up, he couldn't help but notice how run-down the place was. He got to the door and pressed the button for Cas's room. After a few rings, the line picked up.

"Hello?" the voice sounded confused.

"Don't get many callers, do you?" Dean asked.

"Do my ears deceive me or is that one Dean Winchester calling at my door?"

"At your service." Dean pretended to tip a hat before remembering Cas couldn't actually see him.

"Come on up." Cas hung up, and the door buzzed as it unlocked. Dean hurried in and jogged up the stairs to Castiel's room. When he knocked, and wasn't kept waiting long. Castiel answered the door almost instantly, wearing his usual jeans and t-shirt, though he was barefoot and stubbly and had a towel around his neck, his hair dripping slightly.

"My, my, I'm all of a flutter," Castiel said in falsetto, throwing in a slight southern lilt. "Can you imagine, a handsome prince come to rescue me?"

"Fear not, fair maiden!" Dean said in deep baritone, playing along. "I will save you from this wretched prison."

"'Fair maiden?'" Castiel asked, dropping the façade and stepping back to let Dean in. "That's the best you could come up with?"

"What, you don't think you're fair?"

"Shoot, it was the black hair that gave me away, wasn't it," Castiel said sarcastically. "Besides, 'maiden?'"

"You've got the big blue princess eyes," Dean shrugged.

"Yeah, says Rapunzel over here."

Dean ran his fingers through his hair. "I just got it cut a week ago!"

Castiel rolled his eyes. "Not your hair, you doofus. Your eyes." Dean gave him a confused look. "You're joking. You can't not have seen 'Tangled.'" Dean just shrugged. "Seriously? How have you not seen 'Tangled'? It's only one of the greatest animated movies to grace this decade."

"Never got around to it, I guess." Dean looked around Castiel's apartment curiously. "Nice place."

"Don't lie, it's a dump. But it's all I can afford, being a culinary student and all." Castiel glanced at his watch. "I've gotta go finish getting ready for work. Make yourself at home." He walked down the cramped hallway to what Dean assumed was his bedroom.

Dean looked more closely at the room. To his left, there was a tiny kitchenette. The floor was checkered linoleum. There was a half stove, an oven, a dingy old fridge, and a tiny plastic table with a chair on either side. To his right, there was a beat up old couch, an incredibly tiny television, and a DVD player that had seen better days, all sitting on a frayed tan carpet. Dean could see stains ground into the carpeting, but figured it was from a previous owner. Everything else in the house was impeccably clean and organized.

At the end of the hallway Cas had left through, Dean could see a slightly opened door. Inside he could make out a sink and the corner of a toilet. Dean walked down the hall and opened the door further. The small bathroom also contained a shower, though it was no bigger than the refrigerator in the other room. Even though it was clearly run down, everything in this room was also spotlessly clean.

The door to Dean's right opened, and Castiel emerged, still with slight 5 o'clock shadow, but at least wearing shoes.

"I see you've found my pitiful excuse of a bathroom," Cas noted. Dean followed him back down the hallway to the main room, hands in his pockets. Cas grabbed his coat and white cap off a hat rack by the door, turning around to face Dean. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah, yeah," Dean looked at his feet, taking a deep breath. "But I was wondering if maybe, after your shift or something, I don't know, if maybe you'd wanna…"

Castiel grinned, leaning on the door and crossing his arms. "If maybe I'd wanna…?"

"…Go out sometime?"

Castiel bit back his smile, trying to appear nonchalant. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well, I appear to have a serious gap in my movie education. While you're at work, I could go down the movie store and grab that movie you talked about, and we could come back here and watch?"

"As it so happens, I own 'Tangled.' Jo got it for me last Christmas."

"So… is that a yes?" Dean looked up at him hopefully.

"Weeeeellll," Castiel drew out the word as if the question was something he was seriously debating. "Okay. I could never say no to a face like that."

Dean broke into a huge grin. "Awesome. Although, it's occurred to me, if I'm giving you all these rides to all these places, don't you think I ought to have your number? Just in case of an emergency, of course."

"Oh, of course. How very mature and responsible of you." Castiel walked into the kitchenette and opened a drawer, pulling out a pad of paper and a pen. He pulled off a piece of paper and ripped it in half, scribbling his number down on one of the pieces. He folded it up and handed it to Dean, along with the other half-sheet and the pen. "Of course, I'll need yours, too, then. You know. In case of an emergency."

Dean pocketed Castiel's number as he wrote his own down. He glanced at his watch. "Well, it's 5. Shall we?"

"After you, good sir," Castiel bowed Dean out the door. Dean waited in the hall as Castiel locked the door behind them, unable to hide his grin.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Hey guys! The story's really moving along, plan for a little conflict somewhere in the next few chapters. Again, what are your thoughts on this becoming M rated? PM me or write it in a review; reviews are my drug. Enjoy!**

Chapter 6

Castiel entered the restaurant ahead of Dean, looking around eagerly for Jo. In her place at the hostess's podium was her mother, Ellen. His face fell slightly. He had wanted to tell her all about his date later.

"Where's Jo?" he asked with concern.

"It's her day off," she said, looking up at the door as Dean entered. "Dean! How've you been, hun?"

"Great, Ellen," Dean smiled, giving her a hug. "And yourself?"

"Not bad," Ellen took a step back to get a better look at him. "You know, you just get more and more handsome every day."

"And you haven't aged a day," Dean replied, all charm.

"Yeah, I'm sure," Ellen rolled her eyes but smiled all the same. Castiel watched the interaction with a fond smile. After a pause in the conversation, Ellen led Dean to an open counter seat.

"I'm going to head back to the kitchen, let you two catch up," he said. "And Dean, I'll be seeing _you_ at quittin' time," he added as he left.

Ellen raised her eyebrow at Dean, climbing into the seat next to him. "Do I need to have another conversation with you about sleeping around with my staff?"

"No! No, this isn't like that."

Ellen looked entirely unconvinced. Dean sighed. "Look, if you _must _know, we're going on a date. Like, a real date, where two people hang out and talk and laugh and get to know each other _before _sleeping together."

Ellen lounged back in her seat. "Well, I'm impressed."

Through the kitchen, Castiel could see Dean and Ellen. They were chatting and laughing animatedly. He smiled to himself as he turned back to his work.

* * *

"I thought you might like some pie," Castiel said, setting the plate down in front of Dean.

Dean's eyes grew as he stared at the plate. "You, sir," he said, snatching up a fork, "are amazing."

"Yeah, tell me something I don't know," Castiel smiled. He watched with amusement as Dean dug into the pie, groaning. "Woah, Dean, do I need to leave you and the pie alone for a little while?" he teased. Dean just closed his eyes in bliss as he took another bite.

"So you've known Ellen for a while then?" Cas asked, leaning against the counter.

Dean nodded, swallowing. "She used to watch me and Sammy when my dad was out. Woman practically raised us."

"Sammy?"

"My little brother," Dean answered, pulling out his wallet. He flipped it open to a photo of himself and another man whom Cas presumed to be Sammy. Sammy was taller than Dean by a good three inches.

"_Little_ brother?" Castiel handed the wallet back to Dean.

"He hit a growth spurt," Dean defended, pouting slightly. Cas laughed at the endearing expression. Ellen walked up to them.

"Got another order for you, Cas," she said, handing him the order.

"Yes, ma'am, right away," he saluted before returning to the kitchen. Dean and Ellen laughed.

"He's a good kid," Ellen said, watching him fondly through the window. "He's had a bum rap, a lot like you, Dean. But he's such a good kid."

* * *

"Ready?" Dean asked when Castiel exited the kitchen at 11.

"You bet," Cas said, pulling on his coat.

"I thought you might want to get grab something to eat before our movie," Dean suggested. "Something tells me you haven't had much time to eat."

Castiel's stomach growled loudly. "My stomach seems to be agreeing with you," he laughed. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well, it's already 11, so not much is open, but I know of a little sandwich-coffee shop that stays open pretty late."

"Sounds great."

"After you, then," Dean motioned towards the door.

Ellen stopped them as they passed the hostess podium. "Have a nice night, boys. And I meant what I said earlier, Dean. Mess with my new cook, and I'll hunt you down."

"Ellen, I-" Dean began to protest before Ellen silenced him quickly with a look. "Yes, ma'am."

She smiled. "That's more like it." She walked around the podium and pulled them both into a hug. "See you boys on Monday."

Dean and Castiel wished her a good night before stepping out into the cool parking lot. "I see where Jo gets it from," Castiel laughed. As they got into the Impala, Cas's stomach growled again.

Dean chuckled. "The sandwich shop's not far from here, I promise." Sure enough, within minutes, they were pulling into a new parking lot.

"'The Beach City Grill'?" Cas read the sign hanging over the shop. "I've never heard of this place before."

"It's great," Dean assured him as they walked through the door. "The spicy Italian's to die for."

"Alright," Cas said as they reached the cash register. "One ten-inch spicy Italian, please."

"Anything else?" the man at the register asked.

"Yeah, I'll take a coffee," Dean said. "Cas?"

"Sure," Cas shrugged.

"Alright, that's a spicy Italian and two coffees, coming right up. That'll be $11.43."

Castiel reached for his wallet. "Don't even think about it," Dean stopped him. "It's on me."

"Thanks," Castiel returned his wallet to his pocket. They seated themselves at a table in the corner, and their meal came out to them in no time.

"Holy shit," Cas said, swallowing his first bite of sandwich. "You weren't lying. This sandwich is amazing."

"What can I say? I never fail to please."

Cas took another bite of sandwich. "So tell me about your brother," he said around the mouthful.

A smile instantly lit Dean's face. "Sam's brilliant. He got a scholarship to Stanford, full ride. He's studying to become a lawyer."

"Wow, full ride? That's really impressive." Castiel reached for his coffee. "Do you have any family that lives up there?"

The smile slowly left Dean's face. "No, not anymore. My mom died when I was around 4, and my dad died a few months ago. That's actually why I moved back down here."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Castiel said sadly.

"The sad part, actually, is that it wasn't sad at all," Dean shrugged. "Like I said, Bobby's been the most prominent father figure in my life, and Ellen practically raised us. And it's not that he neglected us, not really," Dean explained. "He just felt like he had a lot to prove ever since my mom died, I guess. He worked so hard, he never had the time for us." Dean stared solemnly at his coffee for a while, before shaking it off with a smile. "What about you? Any siblings?"

"More than enough," Castiel grimaced. "Michael's the oldest, then Raphael, Uriel, Anna, Balthazar, Gabriel, Lucifer, me, and then the youngest one, Samandriel."

"What's with all the, er, interesting names?"

"My parents were really religious," Castiel explained. "They named all of us after one of God's angels."

"Wait. Lucifer? As in the devil?"

"An angel's an angel, I guess," Cas shrugged.

Dean hesitated, a question on his lips. "So… if you're parents are so religious…. How'd they respond to…"

"…to me being gay? Not well at all."

"Which would explain your…"

"My living conditions, yes."

"I didn't mean to pry, I just-" Dean began to apologize.

"No worries," Castiel waved the apology off. "It's natural to be curious. My parents send enough money to pay for the rent, and that's all the communication I've got with them."

"And your siblings?" Dean was almost afraid to hear the answer.

"Gabriel and Balthazar will stop in periodically. Other than that, my family is completely silent."

They sat in silence for a moment, each reflecting on his own thoughts.

"Look, I'm sorry," Dean broke the silence. "I didn't mean to bring up any bad memories."

"Seriously, it's fine. Honestly, people so rarely take the time to stop and ask. It's a nice change of pace." Castiel smiled sincerely.

Dean picked up his coffee and drained it. "It's already 12:30," he said, checking his watch. "Still up for that movie?"

"Absolutely." Castiel's smile turned into a grin.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Howdy, y'all! How're you liking the story so far? Anyone catch the reference in the last chapter?**

Chapter 7

Dean shivered as he walked into Castiel's apartment. "Jesus, you're place is freezing."

"Please, call me Cas," he teased.

"Hardy har har," Dean rolled his eyes at the bad joke. "But seriously, Cas, don't you get cold?"

Cas shrugged. "A little, I guess. I'm pretty much used to it by now. I've got a blanket if you're cold."

"I like blankets."

"Unfortunately, I've only got one," Castiel said, crossing to the couch. Dean followed.

"Shucks. Guess we'll just have to share." Dean sat on the couch, patting the space next to him. Castiel put the "Tangled" DVD in the player and sat down next to him, throwing the blanket over both of them. Dean settled his arm around Castiel's shoulder, and couldn't help the feeling of overwhelming ease when Castiel tucked his feet up onto the couch and shifted in closer towards him. Everything just felt completely peaceful.

Cas started the movie and settled back against Dean. He found himself torn between watching the movie and watching Dean's reaction. However, he couldn't stop himself from singing along.

"What?" he asked at one point, feeling Dean chuckle next to him.

"Nothing. Just you. Singing. It's pretty adorable." Dean bit down on his bottom lip to stifle his laughter, drawing Cas's eyes to it. Castiel opened his mouth to retort, but suddenly forgot what he was going to say. Eventually, he managed to tear his eyes away from Dean's lips to focus back on the movie.

Just before Rapunzel saved Flynn Rider's life, Castiel heard sniffling. He looked up at Dean with amusement. "Dean, are you _crying?_"

"No, I just got something in my- It's just, she's his dream and he's hers and- oh, shut up." Dean wiped at his eyes. "Oh, what are you laughing at?"

"Nothing. Just you. Crying. It's pretty adorable," Castiel rephrased Dean's words.

"Just shut up and watch the movie," Dean mumbled, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

When the credits began to roll, Castiel stood up, stretching. He clicked on the lights and went to put the DVD away. The clock read just past 2 in the morning.

"So?" he asked, rubbing his eyes. "What did you think?"

"It was pretty good. And I see where you get the eye thing from," Dean conceded.

"Just, 'pretty good?'" Castiel asked incredulously.

"Disney's just never been my thing, I guess," Dean shrugged. Castiel's jaw dropped.

"Disney. Not your thing. How is that even possible?"

"I don't know, I just haven't seen that many."

Castiel ran his fingers through his hair. "And to think I had such high hopes for you," he shot Dean a crooked smile.

"Tell you what, then. This'll become our thing. Educate me in the ways of Disney, oh Great One. If, by the end of the month, I don't like Disney, you owe me dinner. And, if I do, then I'm treating _you _to dinner. Deal?"

"Alright, you're on," Castiel said, shaking Dean's hand confidently. Already, he was forming a list of movies to show Dean. "Now all I've got to do is decide which movies. They're all amazing."

"Well then, I'll leave you to it. Bring the next one over to my house at, say, 4 o'clock? We can grab a bite to eat after."

"Sounds like a plan." Cas strode into his kitchen and pulled out the pad and pen again, tossing it Dean. Dean clicked the pen open and jotted down his address before tossing it back.

"I look forward to it," Dean smiled. He yawned and glanced at his watch. "Shit, it's already a quarter to three?" He sighed. "I should go."

Castiel got up and followed Dean to the door. "See you tomorrow at 4?" he asked, leaning on the doorjamb.

"Tomorrow at 4," Dean affirmed, crossing the threshold.

"And Dean?" Dean turned back towards Cas. "Thanks for tonight."

Dean took a step back towards Cas, using his forefinger to tilt Castiel's chin upwards. He leaned down and captured Cas's lips in a quick kiss. "My pleasure," he smiled, his lips still millimeters away from Castiel's. He leaned in again, kissing Cas longer this time. "Goodnight, Castiel," he murmured. "Sleep well." And with that, he turned away and walked down the steps.

* * *

They continued this routine for the rest of the weekend, and on into the week. In between movies, Dean would help Cas study for school, rewarding him with a kiss for every right answer. One night, Castiel turned off the television at the end of the movie to find Dean curled up on the couch fast asleep.

He smiled, reaching down to pull the blanket farther around the sleeping figure. He kissed Dean on the forehead before retreating to his bedroom for the night. He awoke the next morning to a light knocking at the door. He rolled out of bed with a groan, still not completely awake.

As he passed his main room, he saw Dean still passed out on the couch, completely undisturbed by the knocking at the door. Cas pulled open the door and was greeted by Jo, holding two coffees and bag that presumably held breakfast of some sort.

"Morning, sunshine!" she chirped. "How are y-" She stopped dead, seeing Dean asleep on the couch. "Holy shit!" she screamed, shocked. "You slept with him?!" Dean stirred in his sleep from the noise. Cas slapped his hand over Jo's mouth, dragging her through the apartment to his room. He shut the door behind them with a snap.

"Keep it down, will you?" Cas hissed. "And no, I did not sleep with him. We were watching a movie and he fell asleep, so I thought it'd be nicer to just let him be."

"You were watching a movie late enough for Dean to fall asleep here?" Jo asked skeptically. "Wait a minute… it was a date, wasn't it?! You were on a date with him! Why didn't you tell me?" she demanded, hitting Cas's arm accusingly.

"I meant to tell you, but _somebody_ wasn't at work on Friday," Castiel replied, poking her in the stomach.

"Fine, then, tell me all about it now! What happened? How'd he ask? What'd you do? Have you kissed yet? Are you guys like boyfriends now?" she asked excitedly, pulling Cas to sit with her on the bed.

Cas sighed and rolled his eyes. "He's been giving me rides since my car is still broken, I told him he needed to see a movie so he said we should make it a date, he took me to a sandwich shop and we watched the movie, yes, and I don't actually know," he rattled off.

"Is he an amazing kisser? He seems like an amazing kisser."

"That's for me to know, and you to never find out." Castiel tapped her nose. She wrinkled her nose in response.

"So what do you mean you don't know if you're dating?"

"We haven't really discussed it," Castiel shrugged.

The door opened suddenly as Dean walked in, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Hey, Cas, do you wanna grab some breakfast or-" he stopped, seeing Jo. "Oh. Good morning, Jo. Am I interrupting something?"

"No," Jo answered, hopping up off the bed. "In fact, I think you two need to talk. Enjoy the coffee and breakfast. Call me later, Cas." She all but ran out of the apartment.

"We do?" Dean asked, confused.

"Yeah, we probably should. You know, about us. And where this is going."

"Ah, the talk," Dean nodded sagely, crossing to take Jo's place on the bed. "Where do _you_ see this going?"

"I don't know. I mean, I really like you," Cas ran his fingers through his hair, something he did when stressed or worried. "And this weekend has been one of the best of my life-" Cas was cut off when he felt one of Dean's hands on each of his cheeks, his lips suddenly occupied with Dean's.

"Well that's settled then," Dean said, moving his lips to work at Cas's neck.

"We're doing this?" Cas asked, grabbing Dean's chin to make the older man look him in the eyes. "Exclusively. Like grown ups."

"Like grown ups," Dean repeated, eyes fluttering closed as he leaned in to kiss Cas again. Cas's hand reached up to grip that back of Dean's neck as he deepened the kiss. He felt Dean's hands grip his waist as his lips moved back down to Castiel's neck. He closed his eyes, smiling blissfully as Dean sucked over his pulse. He could get used to this.

**AN: Sorry if the writing's not so good towards the end, it's 2:30 AM and I'm trying to keep my eyes open =.=**


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Hi guys. So, one of you lovely folks DID indeed find my hidden surprise from Chapter 6. WOOOOO brownie points. Also, I feel like my writing is poopy, so I'm sorry. To those who celebrate it, Happy Easter! Disclaimer: Don't own anything Disney, not Supernatural-y.**

Chapter 8

And so began the best days of Dean's life. Castiel's car was finally fixed, and now that they were officially dating, he frequently visited Dean at the shop when he wasn't busy with work or school. At night, he would stop by Dean's for another Disney movie. And he would constantly practice his baking, much to Dean's delight.

Castiel stopped by Dean's apartment one afternoon, toting a large bag and a stack of DVDs.

"Go ahead and choose any DVD," he said, throwing the stack down on the couch. Dean stood by the door, arms open, body language screaming "What the hell?"

"Hello to you, too," Dean grumbled, pouting.

Castiel dropped his bag in the kitchen and returned to the living room. "Sorry," he apologized. "Hi. How are you?"

"Fine." Dean shrugged noncommittally, still sulking.

Cas smiled fondly at the expression. "Come here, you big baby," he said, wrapping his arms around Dean's neck. He kissed Dean's pouting lips, which quickly responded. Dean worked his tongue into Cas's mouth as his hands slid into the back pockets of Cas's jeans. Cas sighed happily against Dean's mouth as Dean's tongue slid across his bottom lip.

"Not still angry at me, I hope?" Cas smirked, pulling away from Dean. Dean responded by sucking Cas's bottom lip into his mouth. They stood kissing for a few more minutes before Castiel pulled away again.

"Come on," he said, grabbing Dean's hand. "You've got movies to watch and I've got work to do."

"What work?" Dean asked, letting Cas lead him to the kitchen.

"Bakery work," Cas replied, picking up his bag and opening it. He pulled out countless whisks and beaters and bowls and spices and tons of other things Dean had never heard of. Dean sat at the table and watched Cas with interest. "Don't worry about it," Castiel continued. "Go enjoy a movie." He pulled out an apron from the bottom of the bag and slipped it over his head. Dean got up and stood behind him, tying the back of the apron closed.

"What if I'd rather stay here and help?" he asked, slipping his arms around Cas's waist and nuzzling his nose into Cas's neck. Cas turned in his arms and kissed him lightly.

"Well, how could I say no to a face like that?" Cas smiled. "Go grab an apron."

"Yes, sir!" Dean saluted, crossing to his pantry. He pulled out his apron and threw it over his head. Cas pulled out a recipe from his bag.

"Alright, we're going to need- Dean." Cas had glanced up and caught a glimpse of Dean's apron.

"What?" Dean asked innocently.

"Your apron is a naked man, Dean."

Dean glanced down at his apron. "It's Michaelangleo's _David_ if we're being technical." He smoothed down the fabric. "Don't you like it?" he asked, flattening it so Castiel could see the recreation of the naked marble man. It showed from the statue's knees to his neck.

"I'm going to go ahead and ignore that question," Castiel answered. "Go get the flour, sugar, and baking soda, please." While Dean got out the requested ingredients, Castiel rummaged through Dean's fridge, pulling out other things they needed.

"What are we making?" Dean asked, setting the ingredients on his counter.

"Just some apple turnovers. They're pretty simple, but I want to see if I can tweak them a little bit."

"Alright. Tell me what to do, boss."

"We'll start with the crust. Pour three cups of flour into a bowl."

Dean followed Cas's instructions dutifully, and as they continued to bake, Cas helped Dean. He showed Dean his tricks, the little things that made all the difference when it came to baking. He taught Dean how to crack an egg without getting any shell in the bowl, how to pack flour into a measuring cup. He taught how to whisk properly, moving to stand behind him, guiding Dean's hand with his own.

"Good," Castiel smiled at Dean's progress. "Now we need to roll out the dough. Where's your rolling pin?"

"Bottom left drawer under the oven," Dean nodded his head towards the drawer.

"So what you need to do next," Cas called, rummaging around in the drawer, "is cover the counter with flour to stop the dough from sticking." He found the pin and stood up.

"Like this?" Dean asked.

Cas turned around to check and received a face full of flour. _Alright,_ Cas thought, wiping flour out of his eyes. _Two can play at that game._ Cas worked his face into a glare. He looked over at Dean, giving his best death stare. Dean had the decency to look sheepish.

"No," Cas snapped, snatching the flour container out of Dean's hands. "It's more like… _this!"_ Cas turned and dumped the entire container of flour over Dean's head with a triumphant grin. Dean shook his head, effectively getting flour everywhere.

"Alright, alright, truce!" he laughed, holding up both his hands. He took a step towards Cas, arms out. "Hug it out?"

Cas took a step back suspiciously. "Dean, what're you-" he was cut off as Dean wrapped his arms tightly around him. A little _too _tightly. "Whatever you're up to I-" he gasped as Dean cracked an egg over his head, chuckling evilly. Cas wiped yolk out of his eyes, his mouth wide open in shock. Then he began to chuckle.

Now it was Dean's turn to take a step back. "I mean it this time," he said, looking scared. "Truce." Castiel just continue to chortle.

"Oh, Dean," he smiled dangerously. "Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean. You're going to regret that." Dean glanced nervously at him, and then at the door. Cas made a quick grab for the carton of milk, and Dean bolted. Within a few steps, Cas caught up, yanking him back with a finger through his belt loops. Dean gasped as the whole gallon of cold milk was upended over his head.

Castiel laughed and retreated to the kitchen, where a full on war ensued. By the time they were done, Dean's fridge was practically emptied, and both men were covered head to foot in various foods. They both collapsed onto the ground, out of breath from laughing.

"So much for apple turnovers," Castiel commented, scooting over to lean against Dean.

Dean smiled and kissed some sugar off Cas's cheek. "You taste better, anyways." They sat in peaceful silence for a few minutes.

"Alright," Dean stood up eventually, pulling Castiel with him. "I think a shower is in order." Cas smiled and stepped forward, looping his fingers through Dean's belt loops.

"That sounds like such a good idea, I may just have to join you."


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: Sorry it's been a few days. My spring break is coming to a close, so I've been trying to power through my homework so I can relax this weekend. Also, I've been rewatching Season 1 of Supernatural. They were so young! And high-pitched! And baby faced. Also, who watched the episode of Supernatural on 4/3? Because, pain. Pure pain. Also BIG TIME WARNING**

**WEE WOO WEE WOO WEE WOO WARNING WARNING WARNING THERE IS SOME SWEARING IN THIS CHAPTER. JUST FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO CARE.**

Chapter 9

The next few weeks continued to go by blissfully for Dean. It shocked him slightly, but he was actually enjoying being in a real relationship. Castiel was an almost permanent fixture at his place at his point. They carried on with their routine of Disney and baking, and, much to Dean's chagrin, he was really enjoying the films. Cas would often stay over at Dean's house for the night. He would crawl into bed with Dean and they would turn off the lights and snuggle up together. Dean would lay flat on his back, one arm wrapped around Castiel, who would curl up against his side. In Dean's eyes, everything was perfect.

And then it wasn't.

Castiel began to act strange around Dean. He didn't know how to describe it, but things weren't the same. Cas stopped inviting Dean over to his apartment. He looked thinner every time Dean saw him. His naturally disheveled hair became limp and lifeless.

Dean tried approaching him about it one night. They were sitting on the couch, watching yet another Disney classic. Dean's arm was draped along the back of the couch like usual, but Castiel sat slightly apart from him. His knees were drawn up to his chin, arms wrapped loosely around his legs as he stared blankly at the wall. Dean snatched up the remote and paused the movie.

"Alright, out with it," he sighed, turning to face Cas. "What's wrong?"

Cas turned his head, leaving his arms wrapped around his legs. "Nothing," he said quietly, face remaining blank.

"I mean it, Cas," Dean persisted. "You've been acting weird for days now."

"I'm fine," Castiel replied, looking annoyed.

"Seriously, I'm worried about y-"

"I said I'm fine, Dean! Drop it!" Cas cut him off, turning away from him to stare angrily at the wall. Dean grit his teeth and resumed the movie, determined to bring it up again later. That night, when they went to sleep, Castiel turned on his side, facing away from Dean.

The next morning, Dean dropped Castiel off at work. Cas walked straight to the kitchens without saying a word to Dean.

"Morning, Cas!" Jo chirped as he walked by. He ignored her, too. She watched him go, hurt and confusion written across her face.

"What happened?" she asked Dean quietly, obviously concerned.

"I wish I knew," Dean replied, shoving his hands in his pockets. "He's been acting funny for the past few days. I asked him about it, and he totally shut down." They turned and looked into the kitchen. Cas was standing at the stove listlessly, pushing some eggs around in a frying pan. He pushed some hair out of his eyes, and Dean realized he hadn't even bothered to put on his trademark white cap.

"Please, Jo, you've got to find out what's wrong for me," Dean pleaded. "He'll talk to you."

"I don't know, Dean. If he's not talking to _you _of all people…" she trailed off, unsure.

"I'm worried about him, Jo," Dean said, turning back to look forlornly at Cas. "He just won't open up to me."

* * *

The rest of the week passed miserably for Dean. Castiel remained lifeless most of the time, and the only energy he showed came out in sudden explosions of anger. When he wasn't working, he was sitting on Dean's couch, wrapped in a blanket, staring stonily at the wall. Every time Dean made an attempt to find out what was wrong, Cas would shut down completely. He stopped spending the night at Dean's. Dean saw less and less of him. He didn't stop by the auto shop, he didn't want to go out to eat, he didn't want to watch movies at home.

Dean approached Jo about the matter, but every time he asked, she would just shake her head.

"He made me promise not to tell you," she said apologetically.

"I've got to know, Jo," he begged her. "I'm going crazy over here. He won't talk to me, I-" Dean broke off, tears in his eyes. "Please."

Jo bit her lip with worry. "He'll tell you when he's ready, Dean. Don't push him. It'll just make things worse."

Dean got home and couldn't sit still. His house felt empty without the smell of pastries baking in the oven. It was too quiet without Disney melodies blasting through the house. Dean found himself pacing back and forth in his living room. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and flipped it open jerkily, dialing Cas's number.

He chewed on his thumb nail nervously as the phone rang. For a moment, he thought Cas might not pick up.

"Hello?" Cas's voice came through Dean's phone, dull and hopeless.

"Cas?"

"Oh. Hello, Dean." Cas said his name so differently from before. He used to say it with a smile, like it was some inside joke between them, something that made him laugh every time he thought about it. Now, it sounded like a weight, like something that was dragging him down deeper into the darkness. With those three words, Dean felt his heart clench painfully.

"I was wondering if you maybe wanted to come over for dinner tonight?" he asked, ignoring the ache in his chest.

Cas sighed on the other end of the line. "Look, Dean, I-"

"Please?" Dean bit on his lip as tears welled up in his eyes. "I- I miss you. I just need to see you, need to talk to you. Please." Dean waited, almost afraid for a response.

"Ok," Castiel said eventually. "I'll come." It sounded less like a promise and more like a death sentence.

* * *

When Dean opened the door to let Castiel in, he brushed by, not making eye contact with the older man. He sat on the couch, looking down at his lap, fingers playing with a loose thread on his shirt.

"Cas."

"Yes, Dean?" Castiel asked, head still down.

"God damn it, Castiel, will you please just look at me!" Dean burst out, the stress inside him snapping.

Castiel's chin shot up defiantly. Dean felt all his anger melt away, replaced by sorrow as his eyes moved over Castiel's features. His black hair was lank and dirty, his chin covered in thick stubble. His clothes looked wrinkled and unwashed. He was thinner than Dean had ever seen him.

Dean sat down slowly on the coffee table directly across from Cas, unable to tear his eyes away from his ragged figure. Dean reached out to place a hand on Castiel's cheek, but he jerked away from the touch.

"You called me Castiel," Cas noted coldly. "You never call me Castiel."

"Cas, I- What happened to you?" he asked hopelessly.

Castiel's detachment turned to bitterness as he stood up and walked away from Dean.

"My parent's called."

"Well… that's a good thing, right?"

Cas laughed humorlessly. "Yeah, absolutely fantastic." He crossed into the kitchen. "Until they got around to why they called." He placed his hand on a chair, his entire body rigid.

Dean stood up and moved across the room. "And?" he prompted quietly. He reached out and laid his hand on Castiel's shoulder.

As soon as Dean made contact with him, Cas turned around furiously, pushing the chair over as he went.

"AND THEY FUCKING CUT ME OFF!" Cas shouted, reaching for another chair and throwing that one down as well. "They're done! They called me up, we were having a halfway civil conversation, and then they throw this fucking bomb at me! 'Hey, sweetie, how's life? By the way, you're being disowned entirely. Have fun trying to pay for your rent and college!'" He mimicked his mother's voice sarcastically.

"But… How? Why?" Dean was bewildered. Castiel collapsed into one of the chairs that remained standing, all the fight leaving his body.

"Samandriel came to visit," he said returning to his previous state of lifelessness. "He asked me how I was doing, why I seemed so happy. So I told him. All about you, all about us. I was _thrilled_ to be able to tell someone in my family about you," Castiel looked at Dean through tears in his eyes. "And he went and told my parents." The tears began to fall. "I know he didn't mean to. He's just a kid, he only wanted to tell them how was I doing. He doesn't give a fuck what my sexuality is. But _they_," Cas spat the word out like it was venom, "_they _decided enough is enough. 'This is for your own good son,'" Castiel now mimicked his father's deep baritone as he stood up and began pacing. "'Once you get rid of that Winchester boy and drop the fag routine, you're welcome to come back home.'"

"Cas, I-" Dean didn't know what to say. Should he apologize? Castiel didn't even seem to hear him, still ranting.

"'Why can't you be more like your brother, Michael?'" Castiel all but screeched in his mother's voice. "'He was also such a good boy. You should be more like him!'" The tears were still flowing freely down Castiel's cheeks. "They've left me with nothing. I can't even afford my own rent anymore. I've been sleeping in a booth at the Roadhouse for the past week now!" Dean reached out and grabbed Cas's shoulder, stopping him in his pace.

"So what?" Dean practically yelled. "Screw them! Come live with me. We don't need them. _You_ don't need them."

"Don't you get it, Dean?" Castiel screamed. He pulled at his hair, looking completely deranged. "I'm damaged! They've ruined me!" Tears streamed down his face. "They've completely destroyed me! I mean, look at me! I'M BROKEN!"

"Nobody cares that you're broken, Cas!" Dean shouted back. Cas looked at him, pain and anger obvious in his blue eyes. He turned and punched Dean hard in the jaw. Dean staggered back, surprised, and tripped, falling to the ground.

"Fuck you too, Dean," he spat. "Thanks for nothing." Castiel stormed out into the night, slamming Dean's door behind him.

**AN: So, I'm thinking just a few more chapters. It's about time to wrap this bad boy up.**


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: Hope you all enjoyed the pain there in that last chapter. MWAHAHAHAHAHA ehehehe I'm evil. Anyways, like I said, just a few more chapters. Feel free to send me prompts for other fics though. I'm enjoying this. And they don't necessarily have to be related to Destiel or even Supernatural for that matter. Also WARNING WARNING WARNING There will probably be more swearing. It all just comes out in the heat of the moment, you feel me?**

Chapter 10

Dean stood up, rubbing his bruised jaw in bewilderment. He ran out the door to find Castiel opening his car door.

"Wait!" Dean pushed against the car door, slamming it shut.

"Get your hand off my car," Cas snarled, trying to open his door. Dean refused to budge.

"Not until you listen."

Castiel could feel tears starting to build up but refused to cry. "Nobody cares about me, Dean. Don't worry. I heard you the first time, loud and clear."

"I don't think you did," Dean said calmly.

Cas looked up at Dean with pain filled eyes. Was once not enough? Now Dean was going to go at him _again_?

"Nobody cares that you're broken," Dean said quietly.

"I get it!" Cas shouted, striding away from the car to storm down the driveway. If Dean was going to be like this, he'd just walk back the Roadhouse. "No one ca-"

Dean took off after him, reaching out and catching Cas's arm. "Will you just listen to me?! No one _cares_ that you're broken, Cas! It doesn't matter!" Cas wrenched his wrist out of Dean's grasp.

"How many times are you going to do this to me?" he gasped, the tears finally escaping. Dean reached out to wipe the tear, but Cas slapped his arm away. "How many times do you have to break me? Every time you make it clear that I mean nothing to you, you cut me down. Every time you tell me that I don't matter, I lose an inch. I become smaller. How many times do you have to say it for me to be small enough for you? You've made yourself perfectly clear. My parents have made themselves perfectly clear.

"To them, I'm just a fucking fag. Not worth being their son, not even close to being worth my name. Castiel Novak," he spat out bitterly. "Named for a son of God. That's what they think they are, you know. Gods. And me, with my boys and my cooking and those little nothings I just happen to call my dreams, I could never live up to that. Just like my mother said. 'Be more like Michael.' Michael, with his fucking perfect wife, and his fucking perfect job, and his fucking perfect obedience! I swear, he was just a fucking little soldier!" Throughout the rant, Dean stood silently, watching Cas in shock and sorrow.

"Always doing just what Mommy and Daddy said," Castiel continued. "All of them are like that. My entire family. Do you know what that's like Dean?" Cas demanded, stepping forward, causing Dean to back into Castiel's car. "Do you know what it's like growing up like that? Every day for 20 fucking years, I said nothing. I did exactly what I was told, just like my brothers and sister. And to this day, they're still there, following orders. Except for Gabriel, who has his own agenda, but they still talk to him. Because next to me, he's a fucking peach!

"And you!" Cas shoved a finger accusingly into Dean's chest. "You, with your smirking lips and winking green eyes and your god damn perfection. Look at yourself. You could charm the pants off a god damn house fly! Your father must have been so fucking proud of you. I bet you brought home all sorts of beautiful women. I tried that once, you know. She was a nice girl. Meg, her name was. She was a lot like me. Intelligent, good at putting on a mask. She knew exactly how to woo my parents. She had plenty of practice, too. She could follow her own agenda while making it seem like she was doing what everyone expected of her. My parents loved her. And you know what? I liked her, too, but never in the right way, never enough. And it wasn't an issue. Until my parents decided we should be betrothed. Can you fucking believe it? Twenty first century, and my parents were setting me up in an arranged marriage." Cas had calmed down enough to lean against his car. He was staring out into the night.

"So I told them." Cas turned to look at Dean. "I told them I was gay. And from that moment on, I was out. That one little tweak, the first instance of 'rebellion,'" Cas made quotes in the air with his hands, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Later that night, my parents called me into their room. They informed me that I was a bad influence on my siblings." The mask was back on Cas's face, leaving him blank and expressionless. "They promised to pay my rent. I was given two hours to pack up my things and leave. So I came down here. I met Jo. I got a job at the Roadhouse and started school. I was finally doing what I wanted for once. I felt whole." Cas turned and looked at Dean accusingly.

"And then I met you. And I felt more than whole. It was like instead of all the pieces being put in the right place, something was actually holding them together now. And then my parents called and reminded me. Just like you." He glared at Dean, eyes red from crying.

"Cas, I-"

"No, Dean. My parents left. My siblings left. You left. Don't you get it? Everyone I love leaves. And every time someone goes, they take a piece of me with them. You've made yourself perfectly clear. It doesn't bother anyone that I'm damaged. No one cares enough to try and make me better."

"No!" Dean couldn't listen to Castiel ruin himself anymore. "No one cares that you're broken, Cas, because we love you anyways! _I _love you anyways. Me and Jo and Ellen, we're your family now. Forget those sons of bitches! Don't you see what they've done to you?" Dean moved away from Castiel's car to turn and look him in the eyes. A tear rolled down Castiel's cheek. Dean reached out to brush it off, and this time, Cas let him. "You could be shattered into a million pieces, but you know what? I. Don't. Care. They think they've ruined you. They've torn you down until you believed what they said. They think they've destroyed you, left you a pile of rubble, so damaged that no one will ever want you. But they failed. Because I'd rather have you, Cas, broken or not." Dean let his thumb trail over Castiel's cheek before letting his arm drop. Castiel looked up at him sadly, the picture of exhaustion and defeat.

"No, Dean," he said quietly, opening his car door and climbing in. "I'm sorry, but you're wrong. They've ripped me apart, more than they ever have before. And this time, there's too many pieces to put me back together." And with that, Castiel started his car and drove away.


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: This may or may not be the last chapter. I'm not sure. We'll have to see where it goes and how long it is. I'll let you know at the end though. Maybe there'll be an epilogue. Just gotta go with the flow, y'know? Also, I don't own the Disney. Or the Supernatural. Not even the prompt. But y'all knew that already.**

Chapter 11

Dean stayed home for the next couple of weeks. He called in sick to Bobby's auto shop, grabbed some alcohol, some pie, and some Disney, and retreated into his couch. He didn't shower, he didn't shave, he only got up to eat or use the bathroom. And honestly, he hated himself for it. He felt like some weepy girl, mooning over the boy she just lost. But there was nothing he could do about it. Cas had hit rock bottom and shattered. He had exploded into a million pieces, and there was collateral damage. And that collateral damage was Dean. He stayed in this constant state of self-pity and mourning for days. And, truthfully, he shouldn't have been surprised that Castiel left. After all, everyone always does.

Dean was wrapped up in a blanket, wearing nothing but boxers and an undershirt. His stubble was overgrown, his hair was dirty and wild, and his eyes were perpetually red and swollen. He curled up on the couch with his whiskey, drinking straight from the bottle. His eyes watered as he watched the end of his most recent Disney film, _Lilo and Stitch._

_"This is my family," _Stitch was saying on the screen. _"I found it, all on my own. Is little, and broken, but still good. Yeah, still good."_

Dean reached for the remote and paused the television. He sat in contemplative silence for a few minutes. Half of his mind was tugging at him, screaming _Get up, you wimp! Stop wallowing here in self-pity. You're pathetic! _The other half drowned out the voice in strong waves of pain. He was itching to pick up the phone and call Jo, just to see if Castiel was alright, but his pride was far too wounded for it. Suddenly, Dean's phone rang, causing him to jump slightly.

"Hello?" he said, speaking dully into the receiver.

"Do I need to come down there and whoop your ass into shape?" a familiar voice demanded.

"Sammy?"

"Bobby says you haven't shown up to work in two weeks. So I called Ellen. She told me what happened." Sam's voice had was a strange mixture between sympathy and annoyance.

"Well, then, you know why I haven't been to work in two weeks."

"Seriously, Dean? You're acting like this because of some _guy?_ The Dean Winchester I know would have gone out the next day and slept with some one else just for kicks."

"Yeah, well, I guess I'm not that Dean Winchester anymore, then," Dean took a swig from his bottle. Sam was silent for a few moments.

"What was so special about this guy?" Sam asked hesitantly. "I'm not trying to open up any old scars or anything, but… why him?"

Dean sighed. "Because it was him. Castiel was it. Hook, line, sinker. He got under my skin like no one else, but in such a good way. He's a lot like us, you know."

"How?"

"He had a rough childhood." Dean laughed humorlessly. "Well, 'rough' is a bit of understatement."

"Did his parents die, or..?" Sam asked.

"No, they're fine. Alive and well, or whatever. His parents are just a couple of bags of dicks. They kicked him out because he didn't want to marry some girl they set him up with. They threw him right out, and eventually, they even stopped paying the rent for the shitty dump they called an apartment."

"Wow," Sam said solemnly. "And I thought we had it hard."

"Well, that's what started this whole downward spiral. Things were great. Better than great, they were amazing. For the first time in my life, I was completely blissful. He's studying to be a baker. Makes the greatest pie I've ever tasted." Dean gave a watery smile. "He would come over and bake, and he'd put in a Disney movie."

"Disney?" Sam sounded surprised.

"Yeah. I would sit in the kitchen and watch him work. He loved to sing along to all the songs. He made me feel…" Dean trailed off, unable to describe what went through him when he was with Cas.

"Hello?" Sam asked worriedly. Dean had been quiet for such a long time, Sam thought the call had been dropped.

"Yeah, I'm here."

"Well, you were saying…?"

"That's just it, Sammy. It wasn't one specific thing I felt. He just… made me feel."

"You were in love with him, Dean." Sammy said it so simply.

Dean smiled sadly. "I know."

"I see this playing out three ways," Sam said. "Door number one. You sit on your couch, wasting away all alone for the rest of your life, a bottle of whiskey your only."

"Harsh," Dean interrupted.

"Shut up. I'm not done," Sam said. "Door number two. You get off your sorry ass, you go find someone else, and you start over." Dean felt his chest ache at the option. "Or door number three. You get off your sorry ass, go find Castiel, and make things better. You at least have to try."

"But which door do I take, Sammy?" Dean hated how helpless he sounded, but he didn't know what to do.

"As far as I'm concerned, door number one is out. So the real question is how you feel. I mean, look at what he's done to you."

"He didn't do this to me!" Dean didn't know why he was defending Castiel. "I did this to myself. The only thing Cas did was make me better."

"Well, the choice is yours to make. Either way, though, you have _got _to get out of that house."

"I know." Dean smiled, his first real smile in weeks. "Thanks, Sammy."

* * *

Dean went to work the Roadhouse later that day. He was fully bathed, clean-shaven, and completely sober. When he walked into the diner, his eyes were automatically drawn to the kitchen. Through the window, he could see the restaurant's other chef, Benny Lafitte.

"Hey, Benny," Dean approached the kitchen with a smile, happy to see his old friend.

"Hey, brother!" Benny pulled him into a huge bear hug. "I haven't seen you in ages!" Dean grinned at his slight southern drawl.

"So you're still working here then?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, although you haven't been through here on my shift for about a month now. What happened?"

"I, uh…" Dean hesitated, unsure if he wanted to talk about it. "I got a little distracted by the other chef."

Benny's smile faded. "Oh, yeah, I heard about that. I'm sorry, brother."

"Don't worry about it," Dean smiled sadly. "I'm fine. But I do have a few things I've got to work out. Is he here?"

Benny shook his head. "He turned in his resignation form a few days back. I wish I could help more."

"Thanks, Benny. Really. I'll be seeing you around." Dean hugged him again.

Next, Dean went back to the auto shop. Bobby smiled when he walked through the door, pulling him into a strong hug. Dean dove back into work, glad to find it made him feel better. He helped the customers that came in, smiling with them as they talked. Thanks to Sam, things were starting to get better.

Dean was on his back under an old truck when he heard the bell ring at the front counter.

"D'you mind getting that?" Bobby called from the car he was fixing.

"Sure thing." Dean slid out from under the truck and stood up, stretching slightly. He wiped his forehead on his sleeve as he walked towards toe counter.

"What can we do for you toda-" Dean stopped short. Castiel was standing at the counter, twisting his hat nervously in his hands.

"Hello, Dean." Castiel ran his hand uneasily through his hair.

Dean's eyes moved over his features. He looked healthy again. His hair was clean and styled, the stubble was short, and he looked like he had gained some weight back. When Dean finally looked him in the eyes, the blue looked brighter.

"You look well," Castiel continued.

"You, too." Dean nodded awkwardly. "You look like you've gotten back on your feet."

"I have. I got a job at a real bakery. The wages are pretty good, especially considering I'm a student. I even managed to get a new apartment."

"That- That's great. I'm really glad for you." There was a tense silence. "Now, something's wrong with your car?"

"Oh, yeah." Cas ran Dean through the problem. Dean followed him outside and popped open the hood.

"You've just got a loose valve," Dean said, reaching in a tightening the piece. "There. All fixed."

"Thanks." Castiel shuffled his feet awkwardly. "What have you been up to?"

"I went through and finished your movie list."

"What'd you think?"

"Well, if you're still up for our deal… I owe you dinner." Dean smiled slightly at Castiel. Cas said nothing, but turned towards his car. Dean's heart plummeted in his chest.

"Dean?"

"Yeah, Cas?" Dean asked sadly.

"Did you mean what you said? About wanting me, broken or not?"

"Yeah, Cas. I did." _Not that it matters_, Dean added to himself.

Cas smiled. "I guess I'll see you tonight, then."

Dean's head shot up. "What?"

"You owe me dinner. I hope you're a good cook. I'll be at your house at 6." Cas started to get into the car.

"Wait," Dean caught his hand, pulling him back around. He kissed Castiel, swiftly but thoroughly, his chest filling with warmth.

"Sorry," he said, releasing Cas with a grin. "I just needed one for the road."

**AN: I'm feeling one more chapter and maybe an epilogue.**


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: It's been forever, I know, I'm sorry! School began again and got in the way and blech. On the upside, my birthday is on Sunday. Woot! I feel like Sunday is such an awkward day for a birthday. Anyone else? Oh, also, also, I wrote like a little one shot thingie and its called A Summer's Breeze so go check it out, yo. Also, I seriously need y'all to start giving me prompts for stuff. This will be over soon and I need more things to write.**

Chapter 12

Dean bounced around his kitchen, cooking excitedly. His phone was tucked between his ear and his shoulder as he bustled around the kitchen.

"See? Didn't I tell you going out would do you good?" Sam's voice buzzed into Dean's ear.

"Yeah, yeah," Dean rolled his eyes. "Mr. Stanford over here is a genius. Speaking of, how's the college treating you?"

"It's funny you should mention it. I'm actually not in Stanford at the moment."

Dean furrowed his brow confusedly. "Where are you then?" Suddenly, Dean's doorbell rang. He began to panic slightly, thinking Castiel had arrived early. "Shit, hang on, Sam. Cas might be here."

Dean crossed to the door and pulled it open, almost dropping his phone from shock when he saw Sam's gigantic form filling his doorway. Jessica stood next to him, laughing at the expression on Dean's face.

"Surprise!" Sam grinned, hanging up on their phone call. "I figured it's been a while since we've seen each other, so Jess and I decided to drop by. Plus we really want to meet this Castiel guy."

Dean pulled Sam into a hug, and then Jessica, kissing her on the cheek.

"Wow, guys, you look great," Dean smiled. "Honestly," he added, turning to Jessica, "I still don't understand why you agreed to go on a date with my dork of a brother."

"Must have been the hair," she teased, reaching up to tug on a strand from Sam's head. "The longer it grows, the more I fall in love with him."

"Guess I better keep growing it, then," Sam replied, leaning down to kiss her.

"Enough with the ooey-gooey romantic stuff," Dean interrupted. "Can I get you guys anything to drink?" he added, heading towards the kitchen. Both Sam and Jess declined the offer, following Dean. Dean returned to cooking while he and Sam and Jessica all caught up with each other.

"…so hopefully I'll get into their law program." Sam finished telling Dean about his interview with Stanford about furthering his education with them after finishing pre-law.

"That's great, Sammy," Dean said, hurriedly chopping up vegetables for a salad. "I'm really proud of you."

"Do you need any help, Dean?" Jessica interrupted. "You look a little flustered."

"If you don't mind setting the table, I'd really appreciate it."

"Sure thing," Jess smiled. Sam got help to help her.

"What are you making?" Sam asked, looking around at the ingredients strewn over Dean's counter.

"Burgers. They're Cas's favorite."

"What's my favorite?"

Dean, Sam, and Jessica all whipped around to face the entryway to the kitchen. None of them had heard Castiel come in.

"Sorry," Cas said, looking worried for a moment. "I rang the bell, but no one answered. The door was open so I thought I'd just come in." He glanced at Sam and Jessica and then back at Dean. "Am I interrupting something?"

"No, not at all!" Dean hurried to introduce everyone. "Cas, this is-"

"Sam?" Castiel guessed, reaching out to shake his hand. "I've seen photos," he answered Sam's questioning look. "Which means you must be Jessica," he added, turning to her with a smile.

"I hope you don't mind they're here," Dean said, biting his lip apologetically. "They just kind of showed up."

"No, it's great!" Cas said enthusiastically. "Unless you'd rather I come back a different time?"

Dean's heart plummeted at the thought of Castiel leaving again. "No! No. Stay, please."

"Gladly," Cas responded quietly with a small smile.

Sam cleared his throat pointedly, making Dean jump slightly. He'd all but forgotten they were there.

"So, I, uh, I made some burgers," Dean rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"I love burgers!" Castiel grinned.

"He knows," Jess smirked.

Cas opened his mouth, about to make a hilarious but undoubtedly inappropriate comment, but Dean quickly interjected.

"Alright, dinner time!"

The four sat down for dinner, and conversation came easily. Dean sat back, letting everyone else talk. He watched Sam closely, incredibly glad to see the way he and Jess interacted. He could tell with just a glance that they were perfect for each other.

But his favorite part of the meal was watching the way Sam and Castiel got along. Within minutes, they were ganging up on Dean, teasing him about so-and-so thing he said, or some odd thing he'd done as a young child. Dean laughed along with them with good grace.

When the meal was done, Sam joined Dean in the kitchen to help do the dishes while Castiel and Jessica continued talking in the other room. The brothers washed in silence for a moment.

"So what do you think?" Dean eventually asked.

"Honestly?" Sam asked, and Dean panicked for a moment. "I think he's fantastic."

Dean let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"I hope you guys work things out," Sam continued. "You just seem to really click."

"You really think so?" Dean asked, unsure.

"Really," Sam said sincerely.

"Thanks, Sammy. You know, I've really missed you."

"Me too, Dean. Me, too."

A couple hours later, Sam and Jessica decided to turn in for the night.

"Do you need a place to stay?" Dean asked. "I can set up camp for you here."

"No, it's fine," Sam insisted, sharing a look with Jessica. "There's a motel down the street. We'll be fine there."

"How long are you guys in town?" Castiel asked.

"Just for another couple of days," Jessica replied. "We've both got school to get back to."

"Well, it was lovely meeting you, Sam. And Jessica, you are an absolute delight," Castiel said, stooping to kiss Jess's hand.

"He's got my seal of approval, Dean," she joked, blushing slightly. Dean laughed and hugged her and Sam, wishing them both a good night. They left, and Dean shut the door behind them, overwhelmed by the sudden silence.

"So that's my brother…" Dean said, turning back to face Castiel.

"I like him. And Jessica is absolutely wonderful. They're very sweet together." The two turned and headed towards Dean's living room.

"I'm glad you like him. He thinks you're great, too. And you're right, they're a perfect match… I hope it didn't bother you too much. You were just expecting dinner, not a whole meet-the-family affair." Dean sat on the couch, and Castiel followed suit. For a moment, Dean wanted to wrap his arm around Cas's shoulders like he used to, but caught himself at the last moment. He looked down at his hands, fiddling with his own fingers.

"I like meeting your family." Cas reached out and stopped Dean's fidgeting by placing his hand over Deans'. "If they're important to you, they're important to me."

Dean glanced up hopefully, not ready to believe what he was hearing. "Does this mean we're alright?"

Cas responded by leaning forward and kissing him lightly, just a brush of his lips. "We're always alright."

Dean felt like an entire world of weight had been lifted off his chest. He slipped his fingers in between Castiel's and wrapped his other arm around the younger man. Cas rested his head on Dean's shoulder, leaning into the embrace. Suddenly, Castiel released a humongous yawn.

"I'm exhausted," he mumbled, rubbing an eye blearily. He stood up and stretched. Dean reached out and grabbed his hand.

"Stay tonight?" he asked, giving Castiel his best puppy dog look. Cas smiled adoringly, letting his fingers trail over the features on Dean's face.

"How could I say no to a face like that?"


	13. Chapter 13: Epilogue

**AN: The time has come, dears. Just as everything must come to an end, so must this. Send me prompts and I'll write other stuff. Hope you enjoyed your stay!**

Epilogue

"Uh-huh? Yeah. Yeah, definitely. Thanks so much, Sam!" Dean woke up to the sound of Castiel's half of a phone conversation in the next room over. He heard footsteps and the door opened as Cas walked back into the room. Dean gave him a sleepy smile as he climbed back into bed.

"What time izzit?" Dean mumbled sleepily, wrapping his arms around Cas's waist and laying his head in his lap, using him as some sort of human pillow.

"7:30," Cas answered, running his fingers through Dean's hair gently. "I'm sorry, babe, I didn't mean to wake you."

Dean closed his eyes and smiled as warmth spread through his entire body. It'd been 8 months since he and Cas had patched things up, but it still sent a pleasant chill through Dean's body when Cas called him "babe."

"No, 's fine," Dean slurred, still groggy. He nuzzled closer to Cas. "So you were talking to Sammy?"

"You heard that?" It almost sounded like Cas was concerned.

"Yeah, jus' the end of it." Dean could feel himself slipping back into sleep. "What 'bout?"

"Shhhh," Cas soothed, still stroking Dean's hair. "Go back to sleep. We'll talk later."

"Tell me a story?" Dean asked. He opened an eye blearily to look up at Cas as he felt the man's abdomen shake beneath him with silent laughter. "Wha's so funny?"

"A story, Dean? What are you, six?"

"I like the sound of your voice. 'S nice."

"Fair enough," Cas said, and Dean could hear the smile in his voice. "Once upon a time, there was a handsome prince…" Dean sighed and relaxed into Cas, snuggling closer once more. With Castiel's deep voice painting pictures in his mind, and his strong fingers threading lightly in Dean's hair, Dean was out in a matter of seconds.

Cas glanced down a minute later, smiling at the precious sight that was a sleeping Dean Winchester. He continued to stroke Dean's hair, deep in thought. Suddenly, careful not to bother Dean, Castiel reached over to his bedside table and grabbed his laptop. He opened it up and began to type.

* * *

When Dean awoke again, Castiel was still in bed next to him. One hand still lay on top of Dean's head; the other held a book. His reading glasses were perched on the edge of his nose. Dean always teased Cas whenever he wore them, claiming he looked like a nerd, but honestly, Dean loved them. They made him look wise. Dean could easily picture him wearing them as an older man, wrinkles around his eyes from smiling so much, his salt and pepper hair as wild as ever.

"Hi," Dean said eventually, after simply watching Castiel for a few minutes.

"Hi." Upon seeing Dean was awake, Castiel closed his book and took his glasses off. "How'd you sleep?"

"Fantastic. You make a wonderful pillow."

"See, I knew there had to be _some _reason you kept me around."

"Shoot. You've found me out," Dean replied sarcastically. "You know," he added, "I never got to hear the end of that story. Or the beginning, really."

"Well, it's almost 12," Cas said, glancing at his watch. "What do you say we make some lunch, and then I'll tell you the story again?"

"Lunch _does_ sound good," Dean conceded as his stomach growled, "but it's gonna take a bit more than the promise of food to get me out of bed."

"Hmmm," Cas tapped his chin, pretending to think. "How about… a kiss?"

"Y'know, my pillow is looking awfully inviting right now," Dean smirked, raising an eyebrow.

"Two kisses?"

"My eyelids are feeling pretty heavy…" Dean teased, laying his head back down and his pillow and closing his eyes.

"I know!" Cas exclaimed, playing along. "How about if I make you some fresh pie?"

Dean's head shot up. "Pie? Now we're talkin'!" He climbed out of bed, making sure to crawl over Castiel. "C'mon!" he said, grabbing Cas's hand and pulling him out of bed, too. "Pie awaits!"

Cas laughed as he let Dean drag him along. Suddenly, Dean stopped and turned around. Cas bumped into him with an oof.

"You know," Dean said, smirking slyly, "now that I think about it… I wouldn't mind taking those kisses, too."

"Pie _and_ kisses? If I knew you were going to be so demanding, I never would've agreed to go out with you!" Cas joked. Dean's face slipped into a pout.

"Hey, no fair!" Cas protested. "You know I can't say no when you give me that face."

Dean just pushed his bottom lip out even further.

"Fine! I surrender!" Cas grabbed Dean's face and kissed the pout. Dean wrapped his arms around Cas, pulling him closer as Cas let his hands dangle behind Dean's neck. "I love you, y'know," Cas said, moving back slightly.

"That's good, 'cause I love you, too," Dean replied. It wasn't the first time they'd said the words, but Dean felt no different now than he had then. "So, how 'bout that lunch and pie?" Dean asked as his stomach growled again.

"Do sandwiches sound alright?" Cas asked, moving to look through the fridge.

"Sure," Dean answered, opening the pantry and pulling out the bread. "How about I get started on that, and you-"

"Start the pie. Yeah, yeah, I know," Cas rolled his eyes. "Honestly, I think _that's_ why you keep me around."

They moved around the kitchen together, not saying a word, enjoying simply spending the afternoon together. Castiel worked swiftly and efficiently, and the pie was in the oven by the time Dean had finished making the sandwiches.

"How'd you get that done so fast?" Dean asked incredulously, setting down the sandwiches on the table.

"By now, you'd think I'd know you well enough to always have the fridge stocked with ready-to-go pie dough," Cas replied dryly.

"Fair enough," Dean said, picking up his sandwich and taking a bite. "Can I hear that story now?" he asked, swallowing.

"All in good time, Dean. All in good time."

Just as they were cleaning up the dishes from their lunch, the oven beeped, announcing the pie was done. Dean looked up excitedly from the sink.

"Yay! Pie time!" he cheered.

"Honestly, Dean, half the time I'm convinced you actually are six years old," Cas said. "Now go sit down and I'll bring you some pie and a glass of milk, and then you can hear the story."

Dean sat at the table obediently while Castiel sliced the pie and pour them each a glass of milk. When Cas leaned over Dean to set his plate down in front of him, Dean tilted his chin up, capturing Castiel's lips in a kiss.

"You're the best, you know that?" Dean asked.

"So I've been told," Castiel smirked.

Dean took a bite from his pie eagerly. "Olallieberry!" he exclaimed. "If I'm being honest, I think I owe about 20% of our relationship to this pie."

"I know," Cas smiled. "I made it for sentimental purposes." He sat down with his own pie. Dean noticed a sheet of paper in his hand.

"What's the paper for?" he asked curiously.

"It's your story," Cas replied. "I typed it up while you were sleeping."

Dean furrowed his brow, confused, but decided to wait and see where things went. Castiel pulled out his glasses, set them low on his nose, and cleared his throat.

"Once upon a time," he began again, "there was a handsome prince. He knew he was handsome, just as the whole kingdom knew."

"Let me guess," Dean said with a leer. "I'm the handsome prince."

"Are you going to interrupt, or are you going to let me read?"

"Sorry," Dean hung his head sheepishly. "Continue."

"Though everyone knew he was handsome, no one thought so more than the little puppet. Every day, the prince would ride into town to watch the puppet in his show. Afterwards, the two would talk and laugh about the day's performance. With every visit, the puppet fell more and more in love with the prince. Every day he saw the prince was a good day.

"But unfortunately, back home, things were difficult for the little puppet. Everyone around him would yank on his strings, making him say things he didn't mean, or do things he didn't want. One day, the little puppet couldn't take it anymore, and he cut his strings loose."

Dean's eyes began to water as he realized what the story was about. He wiped at his eyes but said nothing, wanting Castiel to finish the tale.

"But by doing this," Cas kept reading, "the little puppet broke the thread that held him together. He crumbled and fell into the many pieces he was made out of. Within seconds, he was nothing but a pile of wooden limbs. When he fell, his wooden chest cracked open, and his heart tumbled out onto the concrete floor. He cried in desperation as he realized he had nothing. He couldn't even perform in his shows anymore. The prince showed up the next day as usual, and offered to help the puppet. Afraid the prince would not like him now that he was broken, the puppet refused and stayed tucked in his corner. He tried to piece himself back together, but something was missing. His heart had been lost when he fell to pieces.

"For days, the puppet stayed like this. Eventually, he gathered up enough twine to put his body back in one piece. His chest was still hollow, and the twine pinched and poked with every move, but at least he was one piece again. He looked for his prince every day, but he never came. The puppet began to put on shows again, and he noticed it helped make is chest feel a little more full. But every night, before he went to bed, he would glance in the mirror. And every night, he could still see the empty place his heart should be through the large crack in his chest.

"Until one day, weeks later. The little puppet was cleaning up from his performance, the ghost of a smile on his face. He heard a throat cleared from behind him and he turned, shocked to see his prince standing there.

"'I believe this is yours,' the prince said, holding out a small wooden heart. It was scuffed and scratched, but still in one piece.

"'How did you find this?' the little puppet asked, taking the heart. Even just by holding it in his hand, the puppet felt warmer and lighter. The echo of a smile in his face began to have life again.

"'I've had it for a while,' the prince said, 'but you wouldn't let me fix you. Why not?'

"'You're a prince. What would you ever want with a broken little puppet like me?'

"'I want to put you back together,' the prince answered. This time, the puppet agreed, and he went with the prince to his castle. There, the prince removed the twine and replaced it, not with more thread and string like before, but with silks of the most beautiful colors. He opened up the puppet's damaged chest and put his heart back in, but not before polishing it until it shined. He closed up the puppet's chest with more silk, until the wound looked more beautiful than it had as one solid piece. When he was done, the prince handed the puppet the ends of his strings.

"'This way,' the prince said, 'no one can make you do anything you don't want.' The puppet was touched, but he handed the ends of the silk back to the prince.

"'Thank you,' the puppet said, 'but the last time I held my own strings, I cut them and I fell apart. You fixed me. I'd feel much better if you held on to them for me, for safekeeping.' The little prince happily agreed, and insisted upon the puppet staying in the castle with him. From that day on until the day they died, the puppet and the prince spent every day together. And so, for them both, every day was a happy one." Cas set down the sheet of paper as Dean wiped his eyes. Tears had flown down his cheeks through the entire story.

"Before you say anything," Castiel said quickly, knowing Dean was bound to open his mouth, "I'm not done yet. As I'm sure you guessed, that story was about us. You've always been my handsome prince, Dean. I was a lonely little puppet, letting everyone make my decisions for me, until I met you. You taught me not to be ashamed. Everyone breaks sometimes. What matters is that you have someone there to help put you back together. You were my someone, Dean, and I hope you always will be." Cas dug in his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box, opening it up and setting it on the table. Inside rested a simple gold band.

"I'm not going to get down on one knee, and I'm not going to ask a question. All I know is that if you'll always be there to pick up the pieces, I'd gladly break again." Castiel sat quietly, having said his part. He watched Dean with patience, blue eyes large and sparkling, hair sticking up all over his head, a hopeful smile gracing his lips.

Dean pulled the ring out in awe, slipping it on his finger without hesitation. He pulled Cas close to him, kissing him deeply. He let himself taste every corner of the inside of Castiel's mouth, their tongues tangling passionately. They stayed this way until Castiel had to pull away, gasping for breath.

"Is that a yes?" he asked, his eyes lit up with exhilaration and love, his hair ruffled from Dean's hands running through it. The answer rose easily to Dean's lips.

"How could I say no to a face like that?"

**AN: Well, shit, I did not expect this to be that long. It just sort of came out, you know? And the puppet metaphor started out as a complete accident, but I really liked where it went. Thank you so much for joining me on this journey of my first fic. Send prompts if you want more (:**


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